Hi There Princess!
by ItsThatGirlAgain
Summary: *Adopted from ToWriteBlakeOnHerArms* Max isn't normal. To start with she's a PRINCESS and heir to the throne of "mother-frakking England!" for god's sake! Follow Max on her journey from a NYC townhouse to Buckingham Palace, as she goes new school filled with the snottiest British kids a girl could ever wish for, reclaims her thrown from her evil brother, and eats cookies!
1. Prologue

**AUTHOR's NOTE!**

**Hihi world! It's me ItsThatGIrlAgain and welcome to my new story Hi There Princess! I recently adopted this story of ToWriteBlakeOnHerArms and I'm super excited to finally start posting! I see that already a lot of you have been very anxious for this, and being that I don't want to make you all yearn even **_**more **_**for this story, I thought, why not just post the prologue now? Anyways I'd like to give a shout-out to my first subscribers! I'm so glad that you're already so pumped to read. Now I know it's probably not up to par, after all, this is my first story for FanFiction, although I have participated in my share of writing competitions ;). But anyways, I hope you all enjoy!**

**Prologue**

Once upon a time, in a land far far away, okay London, England to be exact, a little girl was born to two people. One was my ultra super-duper fantabulous mom, Dr. Valencia Martinez, former Royal Consort, and MD and the other, my not so awesome, kinda dickish father, His Royal Highness Jebediah Lewis Charleton Batchelder, by the Grace of God, of the United Kingdom of Great Britain and Northern Ireland and of Her other Realms and Territories King, Head of the 16 Commonwealth Realms, Defender of faith, and Supreme Governor of the Church of England. Yeah that's a lot of titles. Now obviously enough, that little girl was me, Her Royal Highness Maximum Annaba Martinez Batchelder, Princess Royal, Heiress Presumptive. I bet you don't even know what that means. Well I don't either.

You see it all started when my dear old mummy took a nice vacation to some indigenous African nation and HRH daddy himself happened to be there too. My mom almost fell into a river, my dad saved her, and the two fell hopelessly in love. Then, during a rather steamy night in their tent, and one broken condom later, I was thus conceived.

There you have it. The story of how I came to be.

Now a-days I live, in the unofficial capital of America itself, the big apple, New York City. To be more specific a refurbished luxury townhome from the early 19- late 1800s in Brooklyn. In this old house I live with my younger half-sister Ella (the little brat..), mummy dearest, and my Scottie, Total.

Well now that you've that story, time for another one. The story of how I had to re claim my throne, date cute guys, and eat cookies.

**AUTHOR's NOTE**

_**About the titles I've given Max and Jeb in this chapter: **_**Now after some rather extensive research, I found the real titles of the queen of England and thought it best to give them to Jeb, since after all, he's the king of mother-frakking England. Now for some of you who were wondering, the 16 Commonwealth Realms that I've mentioned are a group of countries that the main English monarchy remains some sort of control over. They are, to name a few, Australia, Jamaica, Canada, the Barbados, Grenada, St. Lucia, Papau New Guinea, Belize, and of course the United KIngdom of Great Britain and Northern Ireland. **

**As for Max's titles, I took some titles from the Queen's assorted children and through them together as I saw fit.**

_**Max's name: **_**Max's name for this story, as you can see, is Maximum Annaba Martinez Batchelder. I know I didn't include "Ride", but I couldn't see where to fit it in. As for her middle name, Annaba, is the name of a northeastern city in Algeria. I personally love the name, I couldn't help myself, not to use it. The city, Annaba, is famed for the artifacts of it's multiple religious periods, beginning with it's founding as a Roman city, known then as Hippo Regius, then progressing to an early center of Western Christianity, and later a predominantly muslim city. **

**Well alrighty guys! I hope you enjoyed this first preview of the story, the prologue, because I sure as hell didn't. I'm usually a much more sophisticated and thoughtful writer, but I guess writing first-person POVs makes me shift into, "I'm just talking to my friends la di da d.." mode. Not good. Next chapter, which is almost completed ftw, will be up shortly and don't forget to check my profile page for news updates. I'll try to keep you guys informed as much as possible! I also hope that for my next chapter, I'll shift back into sophisticated writer mode, with limits and standards.**

**Bye and keep on trucking!**

**:3 ItsThatGirlAgain**


	2. Chapter 2: Teatime At the Plaza

**AUTHOR's NOTE**

**Hey all! It's spectacular to see that you're all so excited for this chapter, and frankly I'm a bit more pleased with this one than the last. I apologize for the rather.. lacking length of my chapters so far, but there is only so much one can accomplish within a small time frame. Anyways I should like to give a shout out to all of my "subbies" who've taken the time to subscribe to my stories, and I'd like to give a shout out to my reviewers! Thank yu all, it truly means alot to me.**

**Chap 1:**

Now some of you, I presume, are probably going 'round the bend per say, fangirling over the fact that yes I am a princess so I must live this total fairytale life in the palace, with everything I've ever wanted, and shoes, and clothes, and all that good shit. Well you're only halfway there. Sure I get almost everything i've ever wanted, courtesy of my father's rather generous monthly checks "for the bills", but I certainly don't live in a palace. Anyways, I've lived here, in the big apple since I was 12, and although I've yet to lose my British tongue, I'd never go back to ratchet old England again.

So our tale begins on a Thursday. The crappiest day of the week (next to Monday). 17 year old me was impatiently waiting outside the front door of the Plaza Hotel, where my fancy-schmancy daddy-o agreed for us to have our afternoon tea.

"My apologies miss, but no minors unless uncompanied by an adult," the snotty doorman repeated for what seemed like the 100th time.

"Look, I've got to meet my father for tea, and it's already 4:15!" I politely explained, switching to my finest Southern London accent. "I dunno if you're aware, but tea begins at four o'clock. Four! Not 4:15!"

"Now what is going on here?" a receptionist asked, coming towards us.

"This young lady insists that she needs entry, despite our 'no minors unaccompanied rule'."

The receptionist turned to me, "And you're here because?"

"I apologize for disturbing you madam," I said turning on my London charm. "but I've an afternoon tea appointment with my father, at the Palm Room, that I'd rather not be late for, although it's a bit to late for that."

"And your father is, young lady?"

Let's just say once I slipped a "His Royal Highness.." the receptionist was spewing apologies whilst the doorman had oh so carefully slipped away.

One fruit basket and a thousand "My apologies, my liege" later, I was finally seated across from my dad slurping my damn tea like the utter heathen I am.

"Maxie dear- _slurp- _please don't slurp- _slurp-_ your- _slurp- _tea," my father said wincing at every slurp.

"I'm sorry daddy- _slurp- _but I'm just so- _slurp- _anxious to hear why you've- _slurp- _dragged me across town," I said, feigning obliviousness to my father's obvious discomfort.

"Well Maxie- _slurp- _I've a proposition- _slurp- _for you.-_ slurp-" _Daddy slammed his hands down on the table, " DAMMIT Maximum! Can you stop that infernal slurping!"

"Oh, but isn't slurping considered polite in some eastern orient nations?" I asked innocently.

"Does it look like we're in the bloody Orient, Maximum!?" now I could see that vein on father's temple pulsing, haphazardly.

_Shit's about to go down, _I said to myself, thinking of the rather amusing American phrase that I'd just picked up.

"Well.." I pondered, directing my gaze towards a group of Asian tourists a few tables over.

Of course father decided to go the extra mile and give me his Max-if-you-don't-stop-this-right-now look, which was usually followed by a hushed rant of, "Maximum Annaba Batchelder Martinez- (he always uses _his _last name first, as if I'd ever be a Batchelder)- if you don't stop I'll drop you down several places in line for the throne! Then you can sit here in New York, a whole lot longer."

"Alright, I'll stop," I said quickly before my father could go on a tirade and eventually rupture an artery.

"Thank you, Maximum. Now for my proposition."

"Do go on, dear pet," I said, obviously irritating the man.

"Now as you know, you're time to come of age is fast approaching, and frankly my time as monarch is coming to an end," he ventured on, bristling at my last comment.

"Oh don't tell me, you've got cancer in your left nut or something, and now I must take your place and ascend to the throne, like that girl from the Princess Diaries," I said nonchalantly, although inward that was still a big fear of mine. I mean I may not like him and all, but I don't want him to.. ya know.. _die_!

"Maxie quit being such a nuisance!" he yelled, shaking me out of my reverie.

"What's a nuisance?" I asked nasally, pulling my best little kid act.

"_You're trying. My. Patience._" he hissed, his face turning beet red.

"Well by the look of your face, I should think you ought to be more worried about busting an artery, before quibbling about your 'waning patience'," I said, gesturing to the once again pulsing vein on my father's forehead.

"Well _you, _young lady, have a lot more to be worrying about, than my health! Mainly the fact that I'm sending you to come study in England! America's been a horrid influence on you; what with your 'manners' and this utter impudence! Why I never-"

"And with your looks, you never will!" reciting the old saying taught to me by my mother. "And how can you make me come _study, _f all the ratchet things, in England!"

My father's eyes grew wide, face red with pure rage, "Well there's a lot you shan't be doing either, being that said you're coming to England, whether you like it or not."

I could tell when adults are willing to back down on something, but my father's tone? It spoke business, and by George I could tell that I really _was _going to England.

It was with that realization, my world came crashing down around me.

**AUTHOR's NOTE**

"**Well I never.."- This is actually an old English saying to express someone's surprise and disdain for being addressed a certain way, or experiencing a certain event. A rather witty reply to this, in the case that you really haven't a care, is "And with your looks you never will!". Another version of this saying, is remarking to others around you "Have you ever?" And to show some general concern, one would reply "Never!". Truly it sounds hilarious in a high-society english accent.**

**Hihi again everyone! So what were your thoughts about this chapter? Truly I guess I could've portrayed Max and her dad's fight better, but I still enjoyed it. Otherwise I hope you liked my portrayal of Max being an annoying little twat xD. I know, some may not particularly like to see Max as this annoying, sarcastic kid, but frankly this is how I've always thought her to be. Well guys time to hit the hay! Please review!**

**:3 ItsThatGirlAgain**


	3. Chapter 3: Like A G6

**AUTHOR's NOTE**

**Oh my goodness me! I haven't updated in several weeks, a true crime against readers everywhere! I apologize 100 times over for not updating, but with Thanksgiving just passing and the pressure end of term grades on my back, it just occurred to me that I actually only had the very first sentence written, and that's about it. Of course, I've had it in my head, but lazy-assed I just couldn't build up the willpower to open this doc and continue typing. Well enough of this tedious chitchat! Onward with the tale:**

Of all the times for my mother to start agreeingwith my father, it just _had _to be now, when I'm meant to be sent to another _country. _No I can't be one of those normal divorced kids whose only moving from their mom's to their dad's home, but rather from my mom's country to my dad's. _Sigh_, it figures.

So here I am now sitting on this plane. Actually it's the royal private jet.

In this narrow-ass seat. Squashed between two security guards.

That's quite comfortable in retrospect. But not enough to make things better.

_Nothing _can make things better. I dunno about you, but when your mother, who won't let you go to your friend JJ's house after school without talking to her parents, agrees for you to not only go live with your estranged father, but live in a whole other country, one can't help but think, "Something is up…" because frankly, that's why I'm thinking myself. At least on this eight-hour ride of hell, I've got my iPod to listen to.

"_Poppin bottles in the ice, like a blizzard_

_When we drink we do it right gettin slizzard_

_Sippin sizzurp in my ride, in my ride like Three 6_

_Now I'm feelin so fly like a G6" _

Eh it figures that this song ought to come on now. After all, last I checked a G6 was a jet, and I am very much on a jet.

…

_Aw, crap._

One of my father's assistants, Irena or something, just so happened to ask me question in the middle of _my favorite song_. Honestly, I wonder where they find these people.

"Pardon, Irena," I ask politely, but with a false lilt showing my obvious annoyment. "But could you repeat yourself?"

"I wanted to know if your highness is looking forward to our arrival in London."

"Erhm.. well what do I get if I just say 'yes'?"

Irena gave a nervous laugh, "Oh dear whatever makes you think-" I raise an eyebrow at her, stopping her mid sentence. Then, after clearing her throat, she starts back up again, "I mean to say is your father hasn't intentions of providing or repealing privileges at the expense of your attitude toward your sudden relocation."

"I may not have known my father long, but I do know that what's just come out of your mouth is far from true," I say firmly, locking her under my gaze.

As Irena fidgets nervously in her seat, doing all she can to avoid my eyes, I can only smirk knowingly. Now that I know how to get what I want, my plan can be set into motion. _Phase One: complete._

**AUTHOR's NOTE**

**Dundundun! Well one should think that was plenty ominous, don't you think? I mean, what's Max up to? Well knowing Max, it can't be anything good!**

**And for those of you who couldn't figure it out, the song Max was listening to was **_**Like A G6 **_**by Far East Movement, personally one of my FAVORITE songs!**

**Speaking of favorite songs, I guess my song recommendation for this week is **_**Like A G6, **_**obviously enough, and I guess for Chapter 1, I give you **_**Burial **_**by Miike Snow (and yes there are two i's) the theme of this song, your old self proverbially "dying" ties into this being that the life in New York Max has known for a good part of her life is going away. And for the Prologue I give you **_**Princess of China **_**by Coldplay, mostly because it's about "what could've been" and it has "princess" in the title xD.**

**Well I've really nothing else I wish to tell you about this chapter, so anticipate Chapter 3 soon and with great hope, I wish that you'll see to it online shortly.**

**That is all,**

**:3 ItsThatGirlAgain**


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